


Motel Mix-Up

by Ketch22



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Universe, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-17 13:19:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18966046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ketch22/pseuds/Ketch22
Summary: After a hunt that leaves Dean injured, him and Cass reluctantly share a bed.





	Motel Mix-Up

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this ages ago and found it in my notes on my iPhone. It’s unedited, but enjoy.

That hunt was hard, and took a toll on all of them. Dean didn’t find himself missing Cass’s angel mojo very often, but when he stitched up the gash on Sammy’s side and had to set one of Cass’s broken bones, he found himself wishing the angel was still.. well, an angel. 

It had been a few months now since Cass’s grace was stolen by Metatron. When the rest of the angels fell, it was chaos on Earth. They’d spent all their free time hunting the rogues, and most of the time they got off lucky. This seemed to have been an exception. Dean knew he was covered in blood, and some of it was probably his. Hell, most of it was probably his. He was tired and stressed out and worried, and didn’t think twice when Sam came back from the motel lobby with two keys, handing one to Dean and keeping one himself. He also didn’t give it much thought when Cass followed him into his room. They’d fallen into that routine; Dean and Cass take a room with double beds and Sam gets a room to himself. But tonight, they must have gone into the wrong rooms - this one only had one bed. That wasn’t right, couldn’t have been right. Dean barely noticed when Cass came up behind him and pulled his jacket off for him, then lifted his shirt to check for injuries. Suddenly skittish, Dean whirled around. 

“Whoa, hey buddy, whatcha doin?” 

Cass frowned a little bit, responding, “You’re injured, Dean. Let me help you.” 

The argument that ensued lasted several minutes, but ultimately Dean agreed. He pulled his shirt off and sat on the edge of the tub in the bathroom, wincing as Cass cleaned and dressed his wounds. It was freezing in the motel room, so by the time Cass was done, Dean could hear Cass’s teeth chattering. He looked at Cass and told him to go lay down and get under the blanket before he froze to death. 

“No, your injuries are more severe than mine. You should take the bed.” Cass had that determined look on his face, and Dean sighed quietly. He knew when a fight wasn’t worth picking.

“Look, it’s a decent sized bed. I think we can manage to both lay down without it bein’ the end of the world.”

Castiel stared blankly at Dean for a moment but then nodded. They both put on a couple of extra layers for protection; but neither was sure if it was from each other, the cold, or both.

They started off as far away from each other as two people could get in a motel bed. 

Cass kept his distance because he feared that one touch would set his bones on fire. 

Dean kept his distance because he feared that one touch would shatter any remaining delusion that he doesn’t want Cass in ways he knows he shouldn’t. 

Dean started to fall asleep first, more used to the cold than Cass was. When his breathing began to even out, Cass moved a little closer - desperate to feel some of Dean’s body heat. 

He tried to stop with some distance still between them, but the scent of leather and musk and sweat and blood mingled So perfectly on Dean’s skin that Cass was drawn even closer, right as Dean rolled over in his sleep. Their faces were so close Cass could feel Dean’s breath ghosting over his nose. He tilted his head up and was so lost in the thought of how easy it would be to kiss Dean right now that the hand Dean placed on his side barely registered.

He stopped all movement, he might have even stopped breathing as his whole center of gravity shifted to the hand he could barely even feel over layers and layers of clothing. He spoke softly, not wanting to take advantage of the situation. “Dean? You might want to roll over.” 

Dean, however, was no longer asleep and knew exactly what he was doing. He faked a very sleepy grumble and inched closer, snaking his hand under Cass’s many shirts and resting it on his bare skin. 

Cass had been right, his bones were on fire. He didn’t know why this felt so different, he lost count a long time ago of how many times Dean has touched his skin. But it never felt like this, so hesitant, so... intimate. 

Okay, fine. Dean had no idea what he was doing. No plan, nothing at all. But as he brushed his thumb over Cass’s skin and heard him suck in a breath, he stopped caring. He slid his hand under Cass’s shirt further and flattened it against his back, pulling him closer. “Cold,” was all he muttered. 

Cass couldn’t do anything but nod, and then he couldn’t seem to stop nodding. He forced himself to still, not missing the heat that was radiating off Dean in waves. Before he could stop himself, he said, “You’re not cold.” 

Dean frowned, keeping his eyes closed and snaking his hand around under Cass’s shirt to his chest. “Am too. Don’t you want me to be warm, angel?” He flicked his thumb across Cass’s nipple, and was almost certain he heard the ex-angel let out a moan. 

Suddenly, Dean lost his nerve and froze, his hand so far up Cass’s shirt he could feel his heartbeat. This was it, it was now or never. He opened his eyes to find Cass staring at him, his eyes a sea of calm. 

“Kiss me, Dean.”

And he did. 


End file.
